


Tales of Our Engagement Have Been Wildly Exaggerated.

by LyricDreamweaver



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Also probably wildly OOC, Copious Amounts of Sass, Cultural Differences, Humor, Light-Hearted, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 03:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11683263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricDreamweaver/pseuds/LyricDreamweaver
Summary: Quark and Odo get married. It's more complicated than either of them ever expected.





	Tales of Our Engagement Have Been Wildly Exaggerated.

The engagement had been private. Odo hated the idea of people being so invested in what he did with Quark, so Quark simply had to rise to the occasion.

It had taken some planning, promises of absolute security, a trade deal of beetle snuff here, a couple cases of Romulan ale there, and everything was arranged to the most precise detail. And, Quark had to be a bit proud, no one on the station had any idea, not even Odo.

The Constable stumbled into their shared living quarters, legs already turning into the Constable's more natural, gelatinous state. He blinked a few times—a trait he'd picked up from the Hew-mons—and asked, "Quark, what is this?"

Quark, who had spent time studying Bajoran flower code, raised a brow. "I don't know, Odo, what _is_ this?"

Odo looked around, taking his humanoid form properly to walk around their living space. His fingers gently touched the lilacs, the lilies, the zinnias. "Quark."

"Yes, Constable?"

"You really want to get married?" 

"Of course."

Odo sighed and looked at Quark fondly. "Quark. You and I have known each other for a while. I'd like nothing more than to settle down with you."

Quark leaned up to press his forehead to the Constables in an expression of love, content to simply hold the Changeling.

"Let's go to bed, hm?" Quark suggested.

"I'd like that."

* * *

"Perhaps a Betazoid wedding," Odo sighed, exasperated with this constant back and forth. 

Quark raised a brow before stating firmly, "We can't have a Betazoid wedding."

"Why not?" Odo asked. 

"You're always naked," Quark grumbled. "You shift clothes onto yourself. That's cheating."

There was a long silence through the living room. Quark sipped at his glass of Bajoran wine and Odo simply watched the Ferengi.

"It'll have to be a Ferengi wedding," Quark said, eyes distant. 

"Quark," Odo warned.

"You're literally always naked, Odo. Technically, you'd be the ideal Ferengi bride."

"I am no one's bride, Quark," the Changeling said, folding one arm over the other. "And I'm not going through a Ferengi wedding."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Starfleet weddings are rather . . . efficient."

"Efficiency," Quark huffed. He gulped down the rest of his glass. "Is that all you care about? You should have Worf be your best man."

"Perhaps." Odo offered Quark a small smile.

* * *

Having the wife of the current Grand Nagus was generally a huge affair with Odo ensuring the security of such a high-priority politician. Having the wife of the current Grand Nagus show up, unannounced and uninvited, and order a glass of slug juice in Quark's own bar was an even bigger affair.

"Quark," Ishka said coolly, regarding her son with thickly veiled pride. 

"Mother," Quark replied, setting a glass on the bar's surface. 

"How are things?"

"Oh fine, fine," Quark said casually. "What in the name of the Blessed Exchequer are you doing here unescorted?"

Ishka shrugged, drinking her slug juice. She set the glass down. "I heard you're courting."

"Only the most stubborn life form this side of the universe." Quark sighed. 

"And you plan on getting married to him?"

"Rom told you, didn’t he?"

Ishka nodded.

"I'm gonna kill him."

"You can't kill him," Ishka said firmly. "He's my favourite son."

As if summoned, Odo stepped into Quark's bar, wearing a look of suspicion. Seeing Ishka, Odo nodded, joining them at the bar.

"Speak of the devil," Quark muttered. "To use a Hew-mon phrase."

"Ishka," Odo said politely. "Your visit was not announced. I could have arranged - "

"I'm not a young lady," Ishka protested, "and I don't need to be escorted anywhere."

Odo pursed his lips and gave Quark a look. Quark shrugged, obviously at a loss.

"So if this the one you're courting?" Ishka asked, eyeing Odo. "He's handsome."

"Mother. You're going to make him blush."

Odo huffed. Quark gave Odo a small grin.

"I'll have to make sure he's fit to sign any marriage contracts," Ishka said. 

" _Mother._ "

"It's quite alright, Quark," Odo said, offering Ishka a hand. "You said you wanted something traditional."

Quark opened his mouth to speak but a Bajoran hurried into the bar. Odo bristled as the Bajoran approached and Quark knew.

" _Odo'ital,_ " Mora Pol hissed. "I had to hear about this engagement from a fifth-hand source."

The Changeling met the Bajoran's glare with a coolness. Mora Pol narrowed his eyes at Quark, looking the Ferengi over.

"I forbid it."

"You're not—"

"I raised you," Mora Pol said.

"Sure," Quark cut in. "Because tucking him into a test tube every night with electric shocks was the prime example of fatherhood."

Mora Pol opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. The grinding of the Bajoran's teeth was almost audible through the whole bar.

"He's Ferengi scum," Mora Pol said, turning back to Odo. "I would think you would want a Bajoran wedding."

Odo and Quark exchanged a look. Quark knew how long those temple weddings went on and Odo knew Quark believed in only one god and that was latinum. In unison, the Ferengi and the Changeling shook their heads to Mora Pol's suggestion.

"I think," Ishka said, "Odo and Quark would be perfectly happy signing a marriage contract. Five years?"

Odo shook his head, helping Ishka up. "Better make it twenty, at least."

"Twenty years is a long time to be married to my Ferengi scum son," Ishka teased. "But I will have to make sure you're able to sign such a contract."

Odo led Ishka away from the Bajoran, who looked quite pale. "Certainly."

"I need a drink," Mora Pol muttered, watching the Changeling leave. 

"What'll it be?" Quark asked, grinning at the Bajoran.

* * *

"What do you mean you haven't set a date?" Bashir asked, tending to the Ferengi's black eye.

"Well, Odo and I have been back and forth on the issue of how we're getting married," Quark said, trying to relax.

Garak, who had been in the middle of lunch with the doctor, looked over, interested. "Have you considered a Cardassian wedding?"

Both Bashir and Quark looked over as a heavy silence filled the room. Garak shrugged.

"You two fit all the criteria of Cardassian courting, why not a Cardassian ceremony?"

Bashir—poorly—tried not to grin at the suggestion. "He's right, you know."

Quark sighed. "What's a Cardassian wedding like?"

Garak, as though prepared for this, thrust a data padd at Quark. The Ferengi looked at the _number_ of bullet points for the ceremony before looking at the details and handed the padd back.

"No thank you, Garak."

* * *

Odo paced before the holding cell, Mora Pol glaring at him. Worf stood nearby, the tension making the Klingon obviously uncomfortable.

"So you're having a Ferengi wedding," Mora grumbled. "Congratulations Odo'ital."

"Just Constable will do," Odo said, using all his willpower to remain calm and collected. "And we haven't decided on a Ferengi ceremony, per se."

"I see." Mora looked down at his hands. "But you're marrying him?"

"I am."

Worf, hoping to diffuse the fight he knew was coming, suggested, "Why not a Klingon ceremony?"

Mora Pol looked at the Klingon, Odo turning to face Worf. For a long moment, there was an uncomfortable silence and Worf looked over at an empty holding cell, glad to be leaving the station in a couple of hours.

"Worf, I don't think Quark would appreciate a Klingon ceremony," Odo said. "Sorry."

"And he's the least honorable creature this side of the quadrant," Mora Pol added.

There was a twitch around Odo's brow and, after giving Worf a look, the Constable left. After an apologetic shrug to Mora, Worf left the Bajoran.

* * *

Odo paced the length of the living room. Quark watched the Constable and realized, for the first time, this was the first display of nervousness Odo had shown. It was endearing, in a way.

"What are we going to do?" Odo asked softly, pausing in his pacing.

"We could elope."

Odo hummed, considering the idea for a long moment. "But Ishka is so nice, Quark."

"Yeah and your 'father' is a real charmer."

Odo smiled, genuine and Quark remembered exactly why he wanted to marry him.

"Maybe," Quark said softly, "We—you, me, and Ishka—could run off to Ferenginar for a couple weeks. Rom could watch the bar and I’m sure Starfleet has someone who can look after the station."

Odo sighed. "Perhaps we should just have Sisko marry us and run off."

"A honeymoon? You never struck me as the type."

"I would like to be as far away from Mora Pol as possible, Quark."

"Ferenginar's lovely this time of year."

Odo went back to his pacing and Quark couldn't help but wonder if a night's regeneration would do the Changeling some good.

"Let's go to bed," Quark suggested. "We'll deal with all this in the morning."

Odo blinked owlishly. "Let's go right now. Sisko will be in his quarters and we'd just need someone as witness."

"Us? Get married? Right now?"

"The sooner we get married, the sooner we can leave the station for a while."

"But what about the bar?"

"You've got Rom," Odo pointed out.

Quark leaned up to kiss Odo, grinning madly. "You're sure?"

"More sure than I've been of anything," Odo told him.

* * *

The bar seemed more lively, as if everyone was gathering in anticipation. Though the Constable and bartender wouldn't return for another few days, everyone seemed in good spirits.

Everyone except for Mora Pol.

The Bajoran looked down at his glass, only barely aware of the figure who decided to take the spot next to him.

"Odo's a good man," Ishka said. "You raised him well."

"Your son is a conniving cut-throat," Mora shot back.

"I'll take that as a compliment." She watched Rom and Leeta, the two of them running drinks and food to tables, smiling at each other when the got the chance. "Somewhere under those lobes, Quark has a heart, you know."

Mora grunted, sipping at his wine.

"You should be a bit happier," Ishka said. "Odo's married. He's happy. He's halfway to Ferenginar with his husband."

"How would you know?"

"On Ferenginar, we evaluate the bride—"

Mora choked on his drink, but Ishka continued.

"We make sure the match is beneficial for both parties. And Odo was a good match for Quark. They make each other happy."

Mora, setting his drink down, felt a hot shame creeping over him. "So you're saying I should be happy he's married to a Ferengi of all things?"

"Odo's not Bajoran," Ishka pointed out. "And Odo's an adult. He knows what he's doing."

"Sometimes I wonder." But Mora couldn't fight the small smile that played at the corner of his lips.


End file.
